Wow! Has it really been a couple of months since I’ve posted? Lack of time. Lack of inspiration. Lack of motivation. These are my, by now, well-known excuses.

So here I am. I feel an overwhelming need to share this with you. If you are a parent, I’m pretty sure you can relate. Today, I offer you a story of shit.

Yes, shit.

My hands feel tight. Scrubbed and rescrubbed numerous times after this afternoon’s encounter with shit.

I suppose I should commend my 4-year-old for trying to clean the mess up. Some people who frequent the family restrooms have a thing or two to learn from Little Dude. But holy, mother of god! Shit was everywhere.

I found Little Dude in the main floor bathroom with a piece of toilet paper in one hand. His other hand was holding the potty stool over the toilet bowl. The poor thing was trying to clean off a thick, watery clump of poop that was stuck to the stool. His shit-smeared underpants laid on top of his shorts on the floor.

My first thought? Ewwwwww!!!

Then I snapped back to my mommy role and asked Little Dude if he still had more poop to come out. He said, “Yes.” I sat him down on the toilet ignoring the yellowy mess covering his bum and streaming down one leg.

“You shouldn’t try to clean up your poopy mess yourself, buddy. Next time you have an accident, you need to ask mommy for help. OK?” I wanted to give him a hug but my hands were already covered with shit.

Rewind 15 minutes before the accident. Little Dude runs to the bathroom but comes out promptly saying, “My poop isn’t coming out fast.” He rejoins us at the lunch table.

Five minutes later. “Mommy, I have a tummy ache,” and he sits on my lap.

Two minutes later. “I’m feeling better,” and he goes in the familyroom to play.

A few more minutes later, he’s running towards the bathroom exclaiming, “I have to poo!!”

Moral of this story:

The next time my supposedly potty-trained pre-schooler claims his poop isn’t coming yet, I will put my lunch on hold and make sure he sits on the toilet until his poop is securely in the bowl. It will make for a little less shitty day for us all.

I had an exceptionally lovely day yesterday. I loved it, not because it was grand, but because it was an ordinary weekend day. Because, you see … every weekend, the hubby tries as best as he can to give me a break from the monotony/stresses of my week. I’m allowed to be lazy without guilt.

I loved yesterday because I got to experience some of my favourite things …

Sleeping in. Pancakes for breakfast. A trip to Chapters with the boys. A tall mocha. An hour and a half of alone time. The hubby’s special ribs for dinner. Catching up on my favourite TV shows.

Most of all, I loved waking up to the sound of my little guys’ voices (who were busy helping the hubby clean the family room) and being greeted with a loud chorus of “Happy Mother’s Day!” when I finally showed my bleary-eyed self downstairs. The boys were coached by the hubby, no doubt, but it was still lovely, lovely to hear.

No, yesterday wasn’t grand. But there is such loveliness in my everyday. My weekend day, made special every week by the hubby and the boys.

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me and 8-day-old Little Dude

I had meant to write a different sort of Mother’s Day post, yesterday. I found this self-portrait, taken on the 8th day of being a mom, to go along with it but didn’t get beyond uploading the photo. The hubby’s invitation for some snuggle time in front of the tube after the boys finally settled down for the night was just too hard to pass up.

A belated happy mother’s day to all the moms out there.

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This week’s i♥faces theme is “celebrating moms”. I did not submit an entry but I encourage you to check out all the lovely mommy photos by clicking on the button below.

As the boys get closer to being school-aged, I find myself thinking how much I’m looking forward to a routine of alone-time … an elusive occurence that I seem to chase after almost daily. Shopping. Eating. Going to the bathroom. Reading. Surfing the Web. Soon (1 year and 5 months from now, to be exact), I will enjoy a 6-hour window when I can engage in these ordinary activities without a child underfoot, demanding for my attention.

Today, the hubby and I resorted to chaperone tag and took turns minding the boys while the other looked through the clothing and book racks. It was a far cry from our pre-baby days when we shopped and walked the aisles at a leisurely pace.

As I watched the boys turn one of the clothing racks into a fort, I’m reminded once again of how childhood/youth/life is fleeting. No longer bound to a stroller, the boys walk around freely. How fast they’re grown. And, I think to myself, for all the times I’ve thought that the future cannot arrive fast enough, I’ve spent an equal amount of time reminiscing about the days gone by.

In truth, the boys will always be the centre of my world. My hope is that this world will one day make a little more room for me.

Fishing with a broken branch. Balancing on rocks near the river. Skimming stones. Eating ice cream. Napping. Biking. Rolling and racing down the hilly path near our house. Such was our day. It was a very good Friday, indeed.

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I watched this scene through my camera lens … my husband, standing behind my 2 1/2 year-old, with one hand ready in case LittleR Dude falters on the rocks. I held my breath and felt an urge to intervene. Knowing when to hold our children’s hands and when to let them go to explore the world is a delicate tightrope we walk as parents. My husband is a braver soul than I am. My children and I are lucky.

Today, I offer you a photograph of me with my arms wrapped around my youngest son … a quick blackberry snap taken by my husband last year and digitally edited by me. It’s one of the very few images of me in our massive digital photo library … the first photo I thought of when I saw the word hold.

This image reminds me of one of my current ongoing battles with LittleR Dude, now 2 1/2. He’s beginning to reject naptime. “I don’t want to cuddle, mommy,” he insists but often succumbs to sleep only a few minutes after being rocked.

Cuddle time. Our down time. I’d like to hold on to this quiet, tender moment forever. I hold him sleeping in my arms longer than I need to because I know that, soon, this routine will pass. One day, I will have no choice but to let go.

About Me

I am the mother of two boys, Little Dude and LittleR Dude, and the wife of a wonderful guy who somehow manages to keep me grounded. I spend most days sleep-deprived and cranky and am grateful for the laughter and joy that interject my wonderfully chaotic life. Here are my snapshots, reflections and observations of everyday life.